


In the eye of a Hurricane

by TanithCooper



Series: Reincarnation is a Musical Affair [1]
Category: Hamilton - Miranda, Historical RPF
Genre: AU, Alternate Universe - College/University, Alternate Universe - Reincarnation, Angst, Anxiety Attacks, But were they enemies really?, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Enemies to Lovers, Flashbacks, I think this is the most I've written with in depth things?, I've actually completed this one, M/M, My friend told me to upload this, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, idek
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-11-23
Updated: 2016-11-25
Packaged: 2018-09-01 20:04:37
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 9
Words: 9,856
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8636299
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TanithCooper/pseuds/TanithCooper
Summary: Alexander Jones is fed up of this Hamilton bloke, though perhaps going out in the middle of a storm to get away from hearing the name wasn't his greatest achievement to date...





	1. Alexander

Alexander Jones had never been a musical person. Don't get him wrong, he liked going to the theatre as much as the next person, but he would never be the first person to want to go see something. His friends, however, were a different matter.

John Laurence had been the first to fall. He had gone to see a musical in the Richard Rodgers and hadn't stopped raving about it since, constantly singing parts of the soundtrack at him mainly because of his first name. Then he brought Herc and Gil down with him. Thus started the seemingly endless references, the split camps of who wanted to watch the bootleg and who didn't, the god damn group chat that everyone but him seemed to be in that went off every five seconds.

All in all, Alex wasn't impressed. He didn't really care about this Hamilton bloke, nor about his life. Why the hell would he want to go see a musical about a dead guy when he could be focusing on his next speech? Why watch people prance about on stage when he could be contemplating his next set of insults to throw at Thomas Jameson when they went head to head in the debate club? Besides, he had just about enough money to get himself food and coffee for the rest of this semester, let alone going to a theatre on the off chance he could get tickets (Yeah, he knew about the shows ran by Miranda. Made it damn hard to walk down Broadway on a Wednesday, damn thespians). So he elected to ignore it, focusing on keeping his scholarship with Columbia rather than join the obsessed fangirls his friends had seemingly become. Besides, it would die down eventually, right?

 

Wrong.

It had been three months and Alex was starting to go mad. His friends had started to call him Hamilton, all of them grinning like it had been some kind of inside joke. That's what made him snap more than anything else related to that damn musical (three days lack of sleep probably didn't help his temper either), storming out of the dorm rooms with a slammed door behind him as walked out into the cold night air. The cold, damp night air filled with heavy droplets of rain and lumps of hail. Shit.

 

It had been ten minutes since Alexander Jones had left the questionable safety of his dorm building and he was currently thoroughly regretting his decision. Curled up under a bus shelter in the dark, trying to ward off the inevitable panic attack that graced him whenever there was a storm, flashbacks of the hurricane that wrecked his town plaguing his mind. The screams of people dying in the streets flooded his brain, the sight of people drowning and holding onto trees for dear life all he could see. Death was all around him and he couldn't move, couldn't see, couldn't-

 

"Hey, hey, it's okay, you're alright. Hey, Alexander, come back to me, yeah?"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This one is short but the rest are longer than this chapter I swear!
> 
> I'm utter musical trash, so come and scream at me at tanithcooper.tumblr.com about anything!
> 
> Be kind to each other!  
> Dan.


	2. Thomas

Thomas Jameson sighed as he hit the fifth set of red lights in an hour, the storm doing nothing for the visibility in his car. He sighed and ran a hand through his hair as the soundtrack blaring through his stereo sang of a hurricane, of a man who was so desperate to save his own reputation that he would bring his whole family down with him. He respected Hamilton in so many ways, especially after the epiphany that he had just after hearing 'what'd I miss' for the first time, but the man was an idiot. The worst kind of idiot because he knew exactly the consequences would be. Not much had changed over time. The current Hamilton, not that he showed any signs of remembering the past, still loved to debate with him, still wrote like he was running out of time, still had the cute pout of anger that showed every time Jefferson won a debate- _cute. Where did_ ** _that_** _come from_? Regardless of Hamilton's lack of remembrance and continued lack of respect towards him, Jefferson found himself happy enough to debate, happy to look out for the man when even he didn't know he needed it.

Possessive may be the word he was looking for. He was allowed to rip Hamilton another arsehole in debates, allowed to trade insults in the corridors and over social media, but god forbid anyone else try it. Thomas had made sure that everyone knew what would happen if they did. When John Adams had publically insulted Alexander for the second time in his lives, Hamilton had once again written him a response which had discredited him completely and had gone away satisfied with himself. Word never managed to get around to Alex as to what had happened when John Adams had got back to the dorm room to find Thomas waiting for him.

Thomas smirked at the memory, looking out of the window into the bus shelter, pursing his lips as he realised that there was a person curled up in there. A familiar shaped person with only a jumper and a pair of jeans on with no shoes on his feet, soaked from head to foot. "Damn it Hamilton." He muttered, pulling over to the side of the street, driving onto the curb so he wouldn't get wet as he climbed out of the car. "Ha- Jones, what-" he cut off with a frown, realising quite quickly that the man was in the midst of a panic attack. He quickly sat next to the smaller man, not touching him in case that would set him off even further. "Hey, hey, it's okay, you're alright. Hey, Alexander, come back to me, yeah? You're alright, you're in New York, sat in a bus shelter in a storm. Come on darlin', come back to me yeah?" He tried, frowning as he heard a wrecked sob, finding the other man leaning towards him slightly. _Wait… Darlin'? Where had that come from?_ "Come on darlin', breathe with me, yeah? You're doing great. You concentrate on breathing and I'm going to put my arm around you, then in a minute I'm going to pick you up and put you into my car, okay? You're going to be okay."  He said sounding much calmer than he felt, wrapping an arm gently around Alexander only for him to cling onto Thomas for dear life. "You're like a little koala, you are." He chuckled, gently moving Alex so he could pick him up bridal style. "And just as light, jeez, you need to eat once in a while. If you waste away, I'll have no one worth arguing with." Thomas joked, finding himself talking for the sake of talking as Alexander latched his arms around Jefferson's neck, breathing slowly steadying out as he matched Thomas', a small sob escaping his lips as the immigrant started to fall out of his panicked state. "Now, can I put you in the passenger seat? It's about five minutes to my flat from here, then you'll be-" Thomas managed just before a clap of thunder pierced the air, causing Alex to cling onto him tighter, the smaller man burying his face into his neck to hide himself away, Thomas able to feel the smaller man shake in fear. "-Fine, You'll be absolutely fine. I'll be with you the whole time." He said calmly, walking to the car door and opened it, managing to get Hamilton over the centre console and onto the passenger seat, keeping a hand holding one of Alex's own. "There, come on. You'll be fine." He murmured, turning on the car and switched the cd to one of mixed classical music recordings, mostly featuring violins. Buckling up, they set off down the main street, Alex's hand getting impossibly tighter with every audible crash of thunder and every flash of lightning that flitted across the sky.

 

Five minutes later and Jefferson pulled into his block's parking lot, quickly turning off the car and moving around to the other side of the car, picking up Alec into his arms from where the man had curled up into a ball in the mere seconds that Thomas had been gone. "Jeez, Alex. Come on, I can't look after you like this out here, let's just get you inside yeah?" he asked quietly, keeping him close as he walked past the doorman and into the elevator. "You know, you'd hate this usually, I'd probably have had some of my teeth removed for me by your fist by now. Hypothetically, of course... Well I hope so anyway." he chuckled to himself, pressing the button for his floor, finding himself more thankful than he had ever been before for the fact he had come from enough money to be able to rent this place on a student budget. "I miss that voice of yours darlin', can you at least tell me what you need?" He asked as the elevator pinged it's arrival to the penthouse, the elevator opening to a small corridor, Thomas shifting Alex slightly in his arms so he could get his keys even as he said nothing in reply. Thomas opened the door and carried him in, shutting and locking the door behind him. "You're absolutely dripping wet, so I'm going to have to get you out of that clothing, Can you undress in the bathroom while I find you some clothes to change into?" He asked, mentally going through his clothing collection to think of something that would fit the smaller man, smiling as he got a small and hesitant "yes" in reply to his question. "Hey there, that's great Alexander, you're doing so well and I'm so proud of you." He said soothingly, not quite knowing where the words he was spewing were coming from as he carried him to the bathroom, setting Alex down on shaky legs. "I'll be back in a moment, okay?" He said with a small smile, turning and closing the door before moving quickly to his room to find his... Find Alex some clothes.

That was a point. What was Alexander Jones/Hamilton to him? He was the opposition on many a debate, and he very much suspected that Alex (being the dramatic little thing he was) would call Thomas his enemy. He wanted to be a friend. There were many times that they had managed a civil conversation over lunch, both men coming away feeling satisfied from the mindless babble that Alexander brought up, obviously not able to think straight for one reason or the other. Perhaps that's when he first started to care for the smaller man, a small crush developing on the genius as they set the world to rights- He stopped rooting through his underwear draw for some boxers that would come close to fitting Alex at that thought. A crush? Infatuation perhaps. There wasn't any way that he would like Thomas like that. Perhaps he only wanted to make amends for last time. Alex had the wrong ideas in Thomas' opinion, but the man was a genius, someone he had grown to respect over time. He hadn't deserved to die like he had and Jefferson had missed the whirlwind of a man more than he ever expected. He shook his head to try and dispel the thoughts, the tight curls that framed his face bouncing as he did.

He pulled out an older, small pair of boxers and pulled out a shirt and some cotton shorts that he used to generally lounge about in before walking back to the bathroom. "Alexander, can I come in?" He asked, knocking on the door when he received no answer. "Alex? I'm coming in." Thomas opened the door and stepped inside to find Alex stood with arms wrapped around himself, having not moved since Thomas had set him down. He sighed and moved to the other man who immediately reached out for him, Jefferson's eyebrows raising when he felt the tight grip on his arm. "Come on darlin', can you get changed for me? You're soaking wet and I want you to be in something dry so you can warm up a little, okay?" He said with an encouraging smile. "Here, I'll turn around, but I need you to get changed, alright?" He coaxed Alex's grip from him and gave him the clothing in return, turning around to stay true to his word, only turning around when he felt a small touch on his arm. "Hey, feeling a little better?" He said, smiling when he got a small nod in answer to his question. "Come on, we can sit on the sofa under a blanket and order pizza, how does that sound?" When he received another nod, Thomas held out a hand that Alex gladly clasped onto, squeezing tightly at the sound of the raindrops hitting the window when the wind was in the right direction.

 

Soon enough they were sat on the sofa with the curtains tightly shut and the TV on reruns of The Office, Alex curled up into Thomas' side, both men under a large blanket that was there more for comfort than warmth. Smiling when he realised that Alex slowly calmed down as the storm did, Thomas took the time to hold him close and make sure he was okay, still slightly concerned that he hadn't really had a verbal answer to anything the whole time that Hamilton had been with him. He supposed that had come with the panic attack that Hamilton seemed to be falling out of now, Jefferson happy to catch him when he finally did. They stayed like that for a while, until Thomas heard a small sniffle from the man, said man lifting his head up from where it had been buried in Jefferson's side for the last hour to study Thomas' face before humming nonchalantly. "How're you doing?" Thomas asked softly, fingers stilling but not moving from where they had been lazily carding through his hair.

"Better. Tired." Alex said quietly, leaning back into Jefferson's touch seemingly absentmindedly. Thomas smiled at the smaller man, starting to move his fingers again as he felt Alex tense up again beside him. "You've not moved away, you're being nice to me. Why?"

 _Typical Alexander._ Thomas thought fondly, _Getting right to the point and speaking his mind. Wouldn't have it any other way._ "Because I found you curled up in a bus shelter cold, shivering and panicking. We may be opponents on the podium but I don't hate you, darlin', only some of your ideas." He admitted with a small shrug, looking down into his almost doe like brown eyes. "I'm not going to move when you're seeking human contact. If that's what you need to help ground yourself, I'm happy to help."

"You keep calling me 'darlin''." Alex said, complete with a fake southern accent which Thomas hated to admit was quite accurate. "Why?"

"Slip of the tongue?" He tried, sighing when he got a glare in return that told him that Alex knew it was bullshit. _Worth a try._ "Look, let's not get into this right-"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, So I've found out you can schedule chapters? This is lifesaving because I am actually a mess.  
> Let me know what you think!  
> Be kind to each other,   
> Dan


	3. Alexander

Alex had been vaguely aware of what was happening enough to know that he knew the person he was currently curling into, though he had a small feeling through the fog that clouded his mind that he wasn't going to like it when he was fully aware of his predicament. Regardless, he held on tightly to the taller person, ragged breathing wrecking his body as he buried his face into the... Man? The voice sounded deep enough to be a man, but he wasn't going to assume anything right now and make a mistake. Now wasn't the time for mistakes. He screwed his eyes shut to try and dispel the images of St. Croix, of the sheer destruction of the island that was refusing to dispel from his mind with every clap of thunder, causing shivers to run through him almost constantly. He heard the person say something about a koala. Perhaps he was acting like one? He couldn't tell, all he knew was that they were still outside in the cold and the only warmth was the one that the person was emitting. The deep voice was saying something else again, the voice calming him slightly between the flashes of lightning that reflected in the lake of fear that swam in his eyes, drowning out the sounds of screams that reverberated around his head to a dull ache. He was being picked up and held to the other person's chest, Alex wrapping his arms around the presence like it was a lifeline, being dragged out of the hurricane's floods, away from the storm and the panic. All he could hear was the person's voice, the warmth they emitted comforting him to no end as he wrapped his arms around his saviour's neck, soft curls tickling his hands as he started to calm slightly. Hysteria settled into silent sobbing as he matched the person's breathing pattern, a choked sob escaping his lips just before another clap of thunder ran through the air.

Alexander Jones was not a coward by any stretch of the imagination. He had made his own path in the world even after the shit storm that had been his life, able to hold his own against all odds, so wasn't it just ironic that a small thing like the clouds could make him shake and hide his face in a semi-stranger's neck? Ironic that the only thing keeping him vaguely sane in this world was the voice of someone he couldn't recognise, the familiar tones soothing him slightly even as he shook in the person's arms. He was placed into the car, warmth surrounding him automatically in the enclosed space, his hand seeking the other's as they were strapped into the seat. He jumped as the engine roared to life, the sudden noise surprising him, the stereo starting with the words "In the eye of the-" before changing swiftly to something classical. He glanced at the man in the driver's seat, a flash of someone in a purple velvet coat with a frankly obnoxious cravat crossing his vision before changing back to the person in a purple blazer and black skinny jeans… Was that Jameson? _God, I'm never going to live this down and Thomas will use this in debates for months to-_ His thought process was cut off abruptly as a bolt of lightning crossed past the windscreen, the seemingly never-ending rainfall hitting the glass creating a roar in the car, Alex clutching onto Thomas' hand tighter as images of the car flooding filled his sight.

 

The next thing he knew was that the hand he had been clutching desperately all of the way to… _Where are we?_ Was gone, the sound of the rain, although no longer imminent still creating a roar in his ears. He was alone again, Thomas had left him, he was going to drown, he was going to-

"Jeez, Alex. Come on, I can't look after you like this out here, let's just get you inside yeah?"

Alex was pulled out of the small ball he had managed to curl up in within seconds and once again held against the warmth of his… enemy? Saviour? He didn't quite know anymore. All he knew was that the words cut through the sound of the storm, through the sounds of the memories of the dead.

 

_I imagine death so much it feels more like a memory…_ And wasn't that just the gospel truth? He imagined death at seventeen when a hurricane brought so much destruction to St Croix, he imagined death when he was held by his mother at thirteen, both of them left defenceless and vulnerable by an outbreak of yellow fever. He imagined death every time there was a storm, every time someone he knew and loved got so much as a cold, every time someone mentioned anything about someone hanging themselves. He imagined death so much because it clung to him like a second skin, Alexander trying to wear it with some sense of pride because, well, how else can you wear something like that? You wear it and try and keep your head above water, lest being dragged down to the murky depths that he imagined death held in it's grasp. He held onto Jameson just that little bit tighter, trying as hard as he could to keep his mind in this reality, keep himself grounded on this world.

"Can you undress in the bathroom while I find you some clothes to change into?"

The voice helped steady him, giving him a lifeline to grab onto that he took happily. He nodded against the other man's chest, surprising even himself when he managed a quiet "Yes." causing Thomas to praise him, even though Alex wasn't too sure what he had agreed to. _That was nice. Wonder if I could get him to do that again…_ He thought absentmindedly, hiding his face against Jameson as he was carried through the apartment, bright lights surrounding the two men as they entered a new room. Suddenly, he was placed onto the floor, Alex only just managing to stay upright as Thomas pulled away and left leaving Alexander alone. _Why did he leave, did I do something wrong? Is he mad? Why wouldn't he leave, I'm just a burden onto him, he didn't need to join me or take me anywhere. Perhaps he's realised he's made a mistake and doesn't want to deal- no. He brought you here, he wouldn't be that cruel. But why did he leave? It must have been your fault, you must have drove him away somehow, it's your fault he's gone and left you-_

"Alex? I'm coming in." Alex watched as he opened the door, trying to work out what the other man was thinking from his facial expressions. He didn't _seem_ angry, he was holding- oh. He had gone to get clothing? He didn't hate him? Thomas walked closer to him, Alex unwrapping his arms from where they had been around himself for both warmth and comfort, reaching out and holding onto Thomas to make sure he was really there. "Come on darlin', can you get changed for me? You're soaking wet and I want you to be in something dry so you can warm up a little, okay? Here, I'll turn around, but I need you to get changed, alright?" The words didn't mean anything to Alex, washing straight over his head as his hand was gently taken from where it was clutched onto Thomas' arm, the clothing pressed into his hands a clear sign of what Thomas needed from him. He changed quickly, the clothing a little big on him, though thankfully the cotton shorts had a tie so he could make it fit slightly better. Reveling for the moment in the warmth that the clothes brought, he looked down at his own older, shabbier and wet clothing, placing it into the bath so it wasn't so much of a mess in the otherwise clean and tidy room. He turned back to look at Thomas who still had his back to him so he could change, Alex frowning for a moment. Why would Jameson want to help him? If anything they were rivals, each other's foils, their standings on the world completely different. Would he have helped Jameson if their roles were reversed? He would like to have thought so, but the idea of Jameson holding this over him- _No. He wouldn’t do that. He wouldn’t have brought you here for bragging rights. He may be a dick, but he's not **that** bad. If anything he was a little cute… What the fuck Jones? Don't even think about that_. Alex shook his head and reached out for Thomas, gently touching his arm to get his attention, a complete contrast from moments earlier where he had held onto him as if he would disappear into thin air and Alex would be back at the bus stop in the middle of the storm, the dull screams of people from long ago still surrounding him like a veil. "Hey, feeling a little better?" Thomas asked, Alex nodding despite the wails of people still swimming through his ears, gaining himself a smile from the taller man that he couldn’t help but weakly return (though it was probably more of a grimace). He didn’t think he'd ever made anyone smile like that in his life, not a smile that was so unguarded, so… well, happy. All from one nod. Thomas' words washed over him again, Alex nodding once more to see if he would get another smile. His hopes dropped a little when he didn't, though he was presented with a hand to hold, Alex taking it without a second thought.

Soon enough he had been led to a living room area and sat on the sofa next to Thomas who had managed to coax him with little trouble to curl into the taller man's side. A soft blanket was placed over the two of them, the tv just loud enough to drown out the noise in Alex's head, letting him calm down considerably. Thomas had laced his fingers into his hair at some point, carding them through it to gently pull and braid the strands before completely undoing it all, endearing Alex to him even further as he relaxed further into the other man's side. The episode rolled onto the next, Alex closing his eyes as the faint rain against the window slowed, muffled by the curtains and the voices of the actors on the screen. It was eventually enough for him to relax completely, the threat of him either crying or hyperventilating gone entirely, Alex sniffing away the last of it before finally looking up at Jameson with a clear mind.

"How're you doing?" Thomas asked, voice quiet and softer than he had ever heard it, the fingers in Alex's hair stilling much to Alex's annoyance.

"Better. Tired." Alex said with a sigh, leaning into his hand to try and get Thomas to start moving his hand again as he thought, trying to suss out the situation completely. "You've not moved away, you're being nice to me. Why?" He asked, knowing fully well that it was a bit blunt, but it would get him answers either way. Thomas didn't seem to mind much.

"Because I found you curled up in a bus shelter cold, shivering and panicking. We may be opponents on the podium but I don't hate you, darlin', only some of your ideas." Alex frowned at that. He didn’t hate the man he was currently curled up against, he knew that well. He didn't quite know what he thought about the other man, perhaps Thomas was right in that respect. He hated his stance on things, and that made debating much more fun than it would usually be if Thomas wasn't there. So what were the times that Alex had sought him out to just rant at him or talk to him about something just to clear his mind? He had friends that he could go to, who would give him their thoughts onto the topic that was bothering him, but he never went to them; he would go to the canteen to seek out the person he would openly (and a little dramatically) call his enemy. He wasn't an enemy. He had carried Alex to his car and up to his apartment, had looked after him for all of that time, hadn't complained once about him being there. "I'm not going to move when you're seeking human contact. If that's what you need to help ground yourself, I'm happy to help." He's happy to help? That's new. He's happy to help me, even if that means me curled up to him, wanting just to curl up with him on the sofa. What does he get out of this- Oh.

"You keep calling me 'darlin''." Alex said suddenly, pursing his lips. What if Jameson _liked_ him. How did Alex feel about him? About this whole situation? It was most definitely odd, something he wouldn't have predicted in a million years. The more odd thing about it was the fact that Alex wouldn't give it up for anything, he just hoped that Thomas felt even remotely the same way. "Why?"

"Slip of the tongue?" _Yeah, that's not sliding with me mate._ Alex thought, glaring at Jameson at the bullshit answer, smiling to himself when Thomas sighed and thought about the real one, Alex realising what it was as Thomas started talking. "Look," Oh. "Let's not" Oh, that's what it is. "get into" So, this is happening. "this right-" Thomas was cut off by Alex moving quickly to claim the other man's lips in a kiss, arms wrapping around his neck to keep himself steady as Thomas' arm moved to wrap around his waist to keep him there, Alex smiling into the kiss as he felt Thomas kiss back.

_Well fuck, this is happening._

After a moment Alex pulled back, looking into Thomas' eyes with a hesitant smile, trying to decide whether that was the smartest move to make or not.

"Well then Jones, looks like we're on the same page." Thomas said, matching Alex's smile, Thomas moving slightly to kiss the end of his nose, an action that Alex found himself grinning like a madman at. "Come on, curl back up, I believe I promised both you and myself pizza."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So it turns out you can't schedule posts. That sucks. Ah well, have three chapters in a night.  
> Let me know what you think! As always, feel free to come scream at me on tumblr at tanithcooper.  
> Be Kind to each other!  
> Dan


	4. Thomas

He was being kissed. Oh god, he was being kissed. By Alexander Jones. By _Alexander Hamilton_. By the Tomcat of the 1700's. He was being kissed and it was perfect. He would swear to the end of his days that he felt sparks fly between them as he kissed back, his arm wrapping around Alexander to keep him close to his chest, keep him so he wouldn't run away when he realised just who he was kissing. _His_ supposed enemy. Well, Thomas had to admit that he had no complaints. Then Hamilton was pulling away from him to look to see if he had made a mistake, eyes full of worry, full of concern that he had perhaps messed up, Thomas finding himself wanting to kiss him again until that worry went away forever. "Well then Jones, looks like we're on the same page." Thomas found himself saying, smile matching Alex's less worried one, tilting his head up slightly to kiss the end of Alex's nose. That drew a grin out of the smaller man, endearing himself to Thomas even more with that one action. "Come on, curl back up, I believe I promised both you and myself pizza."

 

An hour later found Alex and Thomas curled up on the sofa together, the only reason for either of them leaving being to use the toilet or to collect the pizza from the delivery man, both men enjoying the fact that they could just be close without saying anything. Thomas kept his fingers gently running through Alex's hair (he stopped about quarter of an hour earlier only for Alex to 'wake up' from whatever his state of dosing was to glare at him accusingly, letting out an annoyed whine when Thomas didn't start up again. The worrying thing to Thomas was that he was in so deep already that this was endearing rather than annoying) as the smaller man nestled into his side, seemingly exhausted from the day's events.

What if this was all short lived? Thomas wasn't stupid, he knew as soon as Alex remembered anything, he would keep a whole campus away from him, making sure to not cross paths with him for more than an argument. That's how it used to be, that's how it always played out in the end. He was pretty sure that Alex's little band of cronies remembered everything, Alex's son Phillip even being on campus as a literary major (He didn't envy Hamilton _that_ particular meeting when it finally came knocking), so how did he not remember? The Schuyler Sisters were practically his best friends, all of them calling him Hamilton or variations thereupon. It was odd. Perhaps he did remember? It wouldn't hurt to try. "Hey, Alex? What do you know about Alexander Hamilton?"

"Oh for heavens sake, not you too." Not you too? Then perhaps he had heard it, perhaps he wasn't Alexander Hamilton after all… No. They were too alike not to be. It was him, Thomas was sure of it.

"What do you mean?"

"They keep calling me Hamilton, they being literally all of my friends. Have you noticed that we all have the same names? _They_ have. It's bloody annoying. I'm Jones not Hamilton, his life was a clusterfuck of bad decisions, and though mine's not been wonderful I'm not on par with him. I wouldn't cheat on my wife or husband for starters, I'm not looking for a war and I'm definitely not George fucking Washington's right hand man." Alex ranted, Thomas' eyebrows raising higher with every word that he spat. "Don't tell me, you're Thomas bloody Jefferson, slave owner and dickhead galore." _Dickhead? Never bringing **this** up again_. The smaller man seemed to have planned this whole eventuality out in his head, making him think that perhaps this wasn't the first time he had been pulled into this conversation.

"Not at all. I'm not delusional." Thomas lied with a small sigh, placing a kiss on Alex's forehead. "I was listening to it in the car when I saw you is all. Wondered if you'd heard it and if you had any thoughts on it, nothing more."

 

It turned out that Alexander Jones _did_ have some thoughts on it. Many thoughts. Nothing good either.

"-And another thing, have you ever tried to go past the Richard Rodgers on a Wednesday? No? That's because you can't. It's full of screaming girls and thespians looking for a free show with actors preforming for the crowds gathered. Did they spare a thought for someone who somehow looks vaguely like that Lin bloke walking down the street that day? I don’t think they did, because I nearly got mobbed. I was rescued by the bloke who plays Laurens and was taken out a different door so I wasn't swamped! What kind of production even has that reach?! And the damn constant-"

"Darlin', stop right there." Thomas said firmly, kissing Alex to try and stem the oncoming stream of complaints that would cover another half an hour at the least. _Well, he **does** look like him. We all look like them… It's like the close casting of the Star Trek reboot- Focus Jefferson._ "Have you ever listened to it?"

"No." Well, that explains much.

"Would you like to? Then you can shout about it all you want, I promise." Thomas said with a smile, tucking piece of Alexander's hair that had fallen out from his messy bun behind his ear. "We can even have a debate on it if you feel so inclined."

"I always feel so inclined." Thomas smiled at that, shaking his head slightly at the other man. "Alright. Fine. But I'm going to complain about it throughout."

"I wouldn't expect anything less."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I don't even have an uploading schedule for this anymore. Just have chapters.  
> Let me know what you think!  
> Dan


	5. Thomas - Flashback

Thomas Jameson didn't particularly enjoy musicals, for all that he was flamboyant he just never saw the point in them. Of course he had been to the theatre in the past, had seen the likes of The Phantom of the Opera and Wicked, but nothing could compare to a good Opera or a well thought out storyline to a play. Especially Shakespeare. _Nothing_ compared to Shakespeare. So when his best friend of four years James Moor invited him to the theatre to see a new musical that he enjoyed, Thomas was less than impressed. The only thing that made him think that it was a vaguely good idea was the fact that it was both rap and hip hop based, something completely different to what he was used to. He had taken his seat and the show started, both men happily watching the events unfold, James much more invested than Thomas was in the events of the story _. History students._ Thomas had to admit that it was good, but  worth the dollar bills you had to flaunt to get a seat? It didn't really warrant it in his eyes.

They had drank the speciality cocktails during the interval and took their seats for the second half, James a little more fidgety than he was in the first half, stealing glances at Thomas every now and again.

 

**"You haven't met him yet, you haven't had the chance"**

_Well, at least this sounded a little promising._

**"'Cause he's been kicking ass as the ambassador to France"**

_Don't blame him, France is worth it._

**"Someone's gotta keep the American Promise"**

_Hamilton sure as hell didn’t do it- Wait, where did that come from?_

**"You simply must meet Thomas, Thomas!"**

_Thomas. Good name._

**"Thomas Jefferson's coming home!"**

_Ugh. I can feel a migraine coming on._

**"Thomas Jefferson's coming home!"**

_Why does Madison keep looking at me like that?_

**"Thomas Jefferson's coming home!"**

_Wait, Madison? That's Moor. I'm going mad._

**"Thomas Jefferson's coming home!"**

_He's not even pretending to watch the show now, the little- God my head!_

**"Thomas Jefferson's coming home, sir you've been off in Paris for so long!"**

Thomas held his head in his hands, thankful that they were in a box so that no one would worry too much about him and his sudden migraine, though to be quite honest _he_ was worried about the sudden pain.

**"France is following us to revolution, there is no more status quo."**

Thomas could still feel James' eyes on him, the other boy completely static, watching with an almost curious expression that Thomas was pretty sure wasn't called for right at this moment.

**"But the sun comes up and the world still spins."**

_Oh god, I'm going to throw up, this is horrible this is-_

**"I helped Lafayette draft a declaration then I said I gotta go!"**

_Laf would help me, Madison should be helping me, what's going on? I don't understand I don't understand I don't-_

**"I gotta be in Monticello while the work at home begins."**

Thomas looked up, watching the actor waltz across the stage, a grin on his face as he turned to Madison. All traces of a headache gone, completely filled instead with memories of a life gone past.

"So what'd I miss?"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm literally procrastinating by posting these.  
> As always, I'm tanithcooper on tumblr and I hope you enjoyed this!  
> Dan


	6. Chapter 6

"Do I have to do this?" Alex whined as Thomas opened up his laptop, a photo of him and James at the beach from a holiday greeting him as he did.

"Yes."

"It's not my kind of music."

Thomas levelled him with a glare as he typed in his password, thoroughly unamused with this newest attempt at wriggling out of listening to the musical. "I've heard you and John Laurence break into both musical numbers and freestyling at the drop of the hat, don't even try it." Jefferson scowled, opening spotify as Alex wiggled under the blankets. He _would_ be listening to it today whether he liked it or not. Thomas needed to know if he was right or not.

"But I don't wanna." _Oh dear lord, if he isn't Hamilton there's two of them running around. I don’t think my head would be able to deal with it._  
"Now you're just being childish." Thomas sighed, scrolling through the list of music on his saved songs, finding the soundtrack before placing the laptop on the coffee table.

"Good." Jefferson could feel a headache coming on, not even needing to look at Alex to know that the man was pouting.

"Look, you want to know why everyone's raving about this, yes? Then you're going to have to listen to it sooner rather than later." He sighed, connecting the bluetooth speakers so they would be able to hear it better, Alex suspiciously quiet next to him. He was moving the mouse towards the play button when he was tackled down onto the (thankfully extremely soft) sofa by a flash of brown hair and bad decisions and kissed within an inch of his life. Alex had straddled his hips and had a hand placed on his cheek, the other hand buried into Thomas' shirt from where he had grabbed on when he had practically launched all five foot seven of himself from where he was sitting, a rather impressive feat in itself. Thomas wrapped an arm around Hamilton's waist, the other hand tangling into the other man's dark brown hair, dislodging the messy bun it was in entirely. They stayed like that for a moment until without warning Thomas flipped them over, smirking as he pulled away slightly from Alex's lips. "You're not getting out of it that easily. Nice try though."

"I hate you." _Little hard to believe that after we made out on the couch like teenagers_. Jefferson thought, grinning as he watched Alex struggle against the grin that pulled at the corner of his lips.

"Yeah, well I'll struggle through." Thomas said with a shake of his head, moving them around so that Alex was curled up on his lap, head resting in the crook of his neck as Thomas finally pressed play. The first few notes played and Thomas fought against a frown. He could lose something he had just found in a matter of a few words and he was doing it willingly, hoping that Alexander Jones' mind had more of a pull over Alexander Hamilton's in what they wanted in life, hoping against the odds that were stacked against him that Alex wouldn't jump straight out of his lap, that he would continue to hide his face in his neck even after the searing headache and the memories flooding his mind. Gods, he hoped.

**"How does a bastard, orphan, son of a whore and a Scotsman, dropped in the middle of a forgotten spot in the Caribbean by providence impoverished, in squalor grow up to be a hero and a scholar?"**

"This is stupid. Who makes a show about the founding fathers. It's ridiculous." He heard Alex's small voice mumble, Thomas rolling his eyes at the remark.

"Alex, Darlin', shut up and listen."

**"The ten dollar founding father without a father got a lot farther by working a lot harder, being a lot smarter, by being a self starter, by fourteen they placed him in charge of a trading charter."**

"Could you turn it down a little? I have a bit of a headache…"

**"And everyday while slaves were being slaughtered and carted away across the waves he struggled and kept his guard up, inside he was hoping for something to be a part of, the brother ready to beg, steal, borrow or barter."**

Thomas held the smaller man close as he buried his face even further into his shoulder, feeling the tension roll off of him in waves as the pain seemingly got stronger and stronger.

**"Then a hurricane came and devastation reigned, our man saw his future drip, dripping down the drain. But a pencil to his temple connected it to his brain and he wrote his first refrain, a testament to his pain."**

The smaller man shook against him, skin cold to the touch, the hand that was clenched in Thomas' shirt moving to clench on his chest. _Wasn't that where the bullet- oh my god._ "Alex, are you okay?"

**"Well the word got around saying this kid is insane man, took up a collection just to send him to the mainland, get your education, don't forget from whence you came, and the world's gonna know your name."**

"Thomas…" Oh god, that was a whimper. Perhaps he should stop it, stop this from happening before it got too much, went to far-

**"What's your name man?"**

Alex opened his eyes and pulled away from Thomas' neck to look into his eyes, the next words he uttered said in almost astonishment, but more self assured than he had heard from the man all day.

"Alexander Hamilton."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Final three tomorrow!  
> Let me know what you think!  
> Dan


	7. Alexander

Alex sat trying to decipher what had happened, brain slowly catching up with the events of the last hour as he curled up with Thomas and ate pizza. He had _kissed_ Thomas Jameson, and he _liked_ it. What was the world coming to? Something great with any luck, with lots of Thomas playing with his hair. That was nice, calming, gave him something to focus on other than the constant stream of thoughts that span around his head as if caught in a hurricane.

That seemed to be the theme of his life; Hurricanes. St Croix was hit by one, his thoughts were as fast and as devastating in his brain like a hurricane, often leaving an aftermath of destruction behind him. It was a blessing as well as a curse, a help in certain situations that would otherwise be a disaster, a hindrance in the aftermath of rash decisions and long term fixes. Perhaps he was like Hamilton like John said, from what he knew of the human disaster, his life seemed to follow the same pattern of well thought out decisions not working the way he had hoped.

 

"Hey, Alex? What do you know about Alexander Hamilton?"

Alex sighed, looking up at Jefferson with a hint of distain. "Oh for heavens sake, not you too." He muttered. _And this was going so well_.

"What do you mean?" Did he really not know what he had been through for the last few months? Of the practical hell of constant references and in jokes?

"They keep calling me Hamilton, they being literally all of my friends. Have you noticed that we all have the same names? _They_ have. It's bloody annoying. I'm Jones not Hamilton, his life was a clusterfuck of bad decisions, and though mine's not been wonderful I'm not on par with him. I wouldn't cheat on my wife or husband for starters, I'm not looking for a war and I'm definitely not George fucking Washington's right hand man." Alex spat, counting each thing he wasn't off on his fingers before something occurred to him. _Oh great. Thomas. I should have realised_. "Don't tell me, you're Thomas bloody Jefferson, slave owner and dickhead galore."

"Not at all. I'm not delusional." That was debatable. "I was listening to it in the car when I saw you is all. Wondered if you'd heard it and if you had any thoughts on it, nothing more."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> These seem to be getting progressively shorter...  
> As always, thank you for reading!  
> Dan


	8. Alexander - Flashback

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer!  
> I know full well that fans are not like this! This is all from Alex's POV, which is mostly a negative one so is depicted as such. Fans are generally the nicest people you meet, and speaking as someone who has been to red carpets and cons I have never had a problem with anyone there!
> 
> Thanks for reading!

This was not a good day by any stretch of the imagination. He had managed to land a job at the Riu Plaza Hotel on 46th street as a housekeeper and a porter (A Puerto Rican housekeeper, how cliché could you get? Though it was a job, it paid the bills, would help pay off his student loans when the time came. Even on a scholarship it was expensive and he couldn’t rely on his foster parents forever, even though he thought of them as his parents by now, the constant kindness of George and Martha Williams astounding him since the day he moved into their home.) last year and was still holding on months later even through all the shit the job brought. He had been yelled at by both staff and customers, come on to twice and had made about twelve dollars in tips, even though he had been through at least twenty people in the last four hours, just managing to make his fare back to campus on the metro and enough that he would be able to eat for the next two weeks. It was worth the hassle in the end.

 

He wandered along the road, frowning at the crowd in front of the theatre as he stuffed his hands into the pockets of his grey hoodie. Were they all there to get tickets? It was a Wednesday, who even went to the theatre on a Wednesday? He doubted the theatre would even hold that many people in it, all of them chattering and grinning excitedly at each other. Were they having a giveaway? He wouldn’t be surprised. This musical had seemingly taken the world by storm, John having tickets to the show on the coming Friday. He sighed and wandered towards the crowd, curling in on himself slightly as he heard muttering, glancing up to see someone point at him with a confused expression. He shook his head and crossed the road to move closer to the theatre where he could see a gap in which he could squeeze through. Making a mental note to himself to never work or walk this way on a Wednesday ever again, he started walking through the mob of people.

That was when the chaos started.

"Lin!" Alex looked up with a frown. _Wasn't that the person who wrote this thing?_

"Excuse me, Mister Manuel!" Poor bloke. There must have been at least fifty people around him as he could see no sign of the man- He stopped as a tall woman stepped in front of him, holding out a program. "Sorry Sir, Could you sign this?"

"Oh, you mean _me?_ I'm not-" Alex started as another program was shoved under his nose, voices shouting over his protests.

"Oh my god, it's him!" _Shit_.

"Sir!" _What the hell's going on?!_

"Let me through!" He protested, pulling his hands out of his pockets to push through the crowd, face horrified as his arm was grabbed, feeling himself panicking more and more as people crowded around him to try and get his attention.

"Could you sign this?"

"It's amazing to meet you!"

"Could I have a hug?"

"Please could you sign my arm?"

"You've got the wrong-" Alex tried again, trying to lean out of the way as his grey Columbia hoodie was tugged by an older woman.

"Excuse me!" The woman started, Alex trying desperately to pull out of her grip.

"I'm really not who you think-"

"YO! Let the guy through! He'll come out and sign things in a bit, but he's late so needs to get in, okay?" Alex looked up as a freckled man (Who looked suspiciously like an older version of John) pulled him out of the crowd and up through the doors into the theatre, Alex protesting all the way there, though the man's grip on his arm didn't falter. "Hey, I thought you were coming- Shit man, You're not Lin." He said, taking in the dishevelled and angry appearance that Alex put across.

"No I'm bloody not! What the hell was that out there?! I've had a shit ass day as it is and then I'm mobbed?! What the hell man?!"

"I'm so sorry. You… damn, you really look so much like him." The man said with a frown, taking in his appearance with a small smile. "What's your name?"

"Alex. Alexander Jones."

"Anthony Ramos." He said with a smile, holding out his hand for him to shake, Alex taking it with a hint of suspicion, still half wondering if this was all a joke. "Well then Alex, how about we get you a cup of coffee and we can get you out of here when the production starts?"

"You know, that's the best offer I've had all day."

He ended up meeting Lin later on that day, both men surprised by the (frankly alarming number of) similarities between them, Alex eventually being smuggled out of the theatre just as the play started by one of the swings that weren't on for this performance, Lin paying for a cab home for him for the troubles that he had gone through to even be smuggled out of the theatre in the first place.


	9. Alexamder

"-And another thing, have you ever tried to go past the Richard Rodgers on a Wednesday? No? That's because you _can't_. It's full of screaming girls and thespians looking for a free show with actors preforming for the crowds gathered. Did they spare a thought for someone who _somehow_ looks vaguely like that Lin bloke walking down the street that day? I don’t think they did, because I nearly got mobbed. I was rescued by the bloke who plays Laurens and was taken out a different door so I wasn't swamped! What kind of production even has that reach?! And the damn constant-" Alex ranted, stopped only by Thomas putting a finger on top of his lips, a scowl replacing the words that were about to spew out.

"Darlin', stop right there." Thomas said, moving his finger and replacing it with his lips, all of Alex's protests melting away at the sensation. Jameson pulled away much too soon in his opinion, only to bring him back to the nagging annoyance that seemed to badger his every move. Fucking musical. "Have you ever _listened_ to it?"

"No."

"Would you like to? Then you can shout about it all you want, I promise." That _was_ tempting. Especially when the prospect was with one Thomas Jameson. "We can even have a debate on it if you feel so inclined."

"I always feel so inclined." Alex smirked before letting out a heavy sigh, watching with a small flicker of happiness when Thomas smiled at his words. "Alright. Fine. But I'm going to complain about it throughout."

"I wouldn't expect anything less."

 

This wasn't fun, it was torture.

Alex watched as Thomas opened up his laptop, an image of Thomas and James Moor stood on a white sanded beach, both men in swimming shorts and a drink in one hand, Thomas' arm around James' Shoulders and James' arm around  the taller man's waist _. Shit, Thomas looks good._ He shook the thoughts out of his head before remembering what Thomas had opened the Laptop to do in the first place. "Do I have to do this?" Alex whined

"Yes."

"It's not my kind of music." Alex tried, draping himself on the sofa dramatically, the blanket having fallen off a while ago. He looked up to catch Thomas glaring at him as he typed in his password, wincing internally at the thought that he had seen straight through his lie.

"I've heard you and John Laurence break into both musical numbers and freestyling at the drop of the hat, don't even try it." _Well fuck._ Alex pulled the blanket back on top of himself, curling up in it to emphasize his sulk.

"But I don't wanna." _  
_ "Now you're just being childish." _Worth it to get out of it. I'd leave, but I want to curl up with him again… Ugh._

"Good." Alex pouted, looking up at Thomas to try and work out how to stop this from happening.

"Look, you want to know why everyone's raving about this, yes? Then you're going to have to listen to it sooner rather than later." Jameson sighed, fiddling with the computer as Alex watched, eyes lighting up as he realised what he wanted to do. He moved before he could even think further about it, launching himself across the sofa just as Thomas was about to press play, tacking a startled Thomas onto the cushions and kissed him like it was the last thing he was ever going to do. He moved so he was straddling the taller man's hips and moved his hand to Jameson's cheek, the other buried in the tight white shirt that Thomas had on to keep himself stable. He grinned as Thomas wrapped an arm around his waist, humming in surprise and delight when the other hand weaved itself into his hair, his already messy bun completely non existent now. He grinned against his lips as he realised that they weren't going to be moving any time soon, things getting decidedly more interesting when Thomas flipped them over, though his heart sunk as he pulled away with a smirk _. Merde._ "You're not getting out of it that easily. Nice try though."

"I hate you." Alex muttered, trying to keep a straight face as he glared up at the grinning face that could only be read as smug.

"Yeah, well I'll struggle through." Thomas said with a shake of his head, and suddenly they were moving, Thomas maneuvering Alex onto his lap. The smaller man taking the chance to curl up on his lap, tucking his head into the crook of Thomas' neck, breathing in the scent of his aftershave when he finally pressed play. The first few notes played and Alex frowned, not entirely impressed by the situation.

**"How does a bastard, orphan, son of a whore and a Scotsman, dropped in the middle of a forgotten spot in the Caribbean by providence impoverished, in squalor grow up to be a hero and a scholar?"**

"This is stupid. Who makes a show about the founding fathers. It's ridiculous." Alex mumbled, closing his eyes with the vague hope that it would all stop when he did.

"Alex, Darlin', shut up and listen."

**"The ten dollar founding father without a father got a lot farther by working a lot harder, being a lot smarter, by being a self starter, by fourteen they placed him in charge of a trading charter."**

"Could you turn it down a little? I have a bit of a headache…" He mumbled, the sudden bouts of pain crashing over him like waves on a beach,  Alex unable to do anything but hold onto Jefferson- _Jefferson?!_

**"And everyday while slaves were being slaughtered and carted away across the waves he struggled and kept his guard up, inside he was hoping for something to be a part of, the brother ready to beg, steal, borrow or barter."  
** He vaguely felt arms tightening around him as he buried his face even further into Thomas' shoulder, desperately trying to hide from whatever this was, eyes screwed shut as he felt himself start to shake when the pain increased tenfold, excruciating pain emitting  from between his ribs like he had just been ripped open.

**"Then a hurricane came and devastation reigned, our man saw his future drip, dripping down the drain. But a pencil to his temple connected it to his brain and he wrote his first refrain, a testament to his pain."**

Alex moved the hand that was clenched in Thomas' shirt to the epicentre of the pain in his chest, where the birthmark that had always reminded John of a bullet wound was, unable to answer Jefferson when he spoke. "Alex, are you okay?"

**"Well the word got around saying this kid is insane man, took up a collection just to send him to the mainland, get your education, don't forget from whence you came, and the world's gonna know your name."**

"Thomas…" He whimpered, feeling a tear fall down his cheek.

**"What's your name man?"**

Alex opened his eyes and pulled away from Thomas, looking him dead in the eyes as the pain left completely. He knew who he was; the memories were right there in his head. His beloved Eliza, John Laurens, Thomas Jefferson… Oh how could he be so stupid as to forget who he was? He grinned and answered Burr's question with no complaint.

"Alexander Hamilton."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well, there we go. I'm going to have to write more of this, aren't I?  
> Ahh well. I'll see where to go with it and it should be up soon! In the meanwhile, come and scream at me about hamilton and various musicals on tanithcooper on tumblr.  
> Thanks for reading, let me know what you think!  
> Dan

**Author's Note:**

> This one is short but the rest are longer than this chapter I swear!
> 
> I'm utter musical trash, so come and scream at me at tanithcooper.tumblr.com about anything!
> 
> Be kind to each other!  
> Dan.


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